


Battle of Whiterun

by DarkxPrince



Series: Amidst the Shadows [8]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/F, Female Vampire, female dunmer - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:21:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21683659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkxPrince/pseuds/DarkxPrince
Summary: Alduin has not even been dead a full day and already the tenuous peace has been broken. Forced to defend the one place she might call home, will Charlya be forced to finally choose a side in Skyrim's Civil War?
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Jenassa
Series: Amidst the Shadows [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/503842
Kudos: 7





	Battle of Whiterun

_ “How did it come to this?”  _ Charlya asked herself, standing before the gates of Whiterun in the dead of the night. Not even a full day after she defeated Alduin, and Skyrim was tearing itself apart. Honestly, if Alduin really wanted to end the world, all the ancient dragon had to do was sit back and let the mortals fight each other. Yet, if the Dunmer vampire was being truthful with herself, she knew that Ulfric would never give up his ambition of winning the Civil War and becoming the High King. So here they were.

Off in the distance Charlya could see the large force of Stormcloak soldiers, their siege weapons raining fire upon the once peaceful city. Even without her heightened senses, Charlya could hear the people of Whiterun running, trying to get to safety. The City Guard, the Companions, and the few stationed Imperial troops lined Whiterun’s walls. Per her request, there were no soldiers with her now and for anyone else that would be suicide. Still, Charlya knew there were so few troops to mount a proper defense, which was why she was here alone. Surely for anyone else taking on the whole of the enemy attack force would be suicide. Yet not only was she a vampire, she was also Dovahkiin, she had powers mortals would only ever dream of.

It was because of those same powers that made it dangerous for other soldiers to accompany her. The Stormcloaks charged, yelling their war cries as they went, Charlya drew her Nightingale Blade and strode forward to meet them.  _ “Strun … Bah Qo!” _ Her Thu’um reverberated across the battlefield for all to hear. The very skies themselves darkened in response to her Dragon Shout, blocking the moonlight and raining lightning upon the charging troops. The Stormcloak soldiers, unlucky enough to be hit by the magically enhanced lightning, were dead before they even hit the ground. Still the Stormcloaks charged, never wavering or faltering in their advance.

Charlya drew in a breath as she neared the enemy soldiers, “ _ Wuld … Nah Kest! _ ” The Dunmer vampire barreled into the enemy, burying her blade into the chest of one. Within that same heartbeat, she spun on her heel and decapitated another. By the time the enemy soldiers realized she was there, Charlya vaulted over a Stormcloak, slitting his throat as she did so. Even Charlya knew that no matter how fast she was, there were bound to be a few Stormcloaks that would get passed her. Those soldiers that made it close to the walls of Whiterun were cut down by a rain of arrows from its defenders. From somewhere further behind Stormcloak lines, their own archers answered in kind.

Where Ulfric managed to amass this many troops, Charlya neither knew nor cared. All that mattered was protecting Whiterun and its people. Yet somehow, Charlya was not surprised, Ulfric seemed the kind of person to merely crush his enemies with brute force and overwhelming numbers. As such, there were just too many Stormcloak soldiers to kill; even for Charlya with all her power as Dragonborn … perhaps it was time to call for help.  _ “Od … Ah Viing!” _ The Dunmer vampire’s Thu’um echoed across the skies, and a dragon’s roar answered her cry. The mighty red dragon descended from the skies, spewing fire upon the Stormcloak force, and scattering many of their forces. From the walls of Whiterun, Charlya could hear the mighty howl of Werewolves, the senior members of the Companions abandoning all pretenses and revealing themselves. The werewolves descended upon the Stormcloaks, ripping into them with claws and teeth even as Charlya continued to bury her blade into the Stormcloaks.

Regardless of how many they killed, they just kept coming; the Dunmer vampire could already feel herself tiring. Charlya gathered as much power from within herself as she could,  _ “FUS … RO DA!” _ Dozens of Stormcloaks flew backwards, their bones broken and bodies mangled from the sheer force of her Thu’um. It was the display of power that was needed, for instead of continuing to fight against herself, the werewolves, or the dragon - the Stormcloaks started to retreat. Yet there was one who refused to back down and who was trying to rally the fleeing troops. There he was, Galmar, Ulfric Stormcloak’s right-hand man and chief lieutenant. Across the battlefield they locked gazes, Galmar tightening the hold upon his greataxe as Charlya did the same upon her Nightingale Blade. Galmar bellowed a war cry and charged, and Charlya answered with her own.

The vibration of her Nightingale Blade meeting Galmar’s greataxe reverberated through her body as her anger swelled inside of her. It was immediately clear why Galmar was Ulfric’s top lieutenant, even as Charlya ducked beneath his strike, Galmar used his momentum to bring his greataxe around for another strike forcing Charlya to block. Galmar met her strike for strike, blocking her attacks upon the shaft of his greataxe and pushing her back. Yet he gave her no time to counterattack, forcing her on the defensive, blocking or dodging all of his strikes. Charlya jumped backwards, barely dodging Galmar’s strike to her throat, finally able to put some distance between them.

Galmar reached into one of his pouches and drew out a potion, downing its content and throwing the empty vial away. Charlya narrowed her eyes, baring her fangs beneath the facemask. Well then, if that’s the way he wanted to do things, then that was the way they would do things. Without removing her gaze from her opponent, Charlya drew back the hood of her Nightingale armor and pulled the face mask down. Very slowly she reached down, grabbing one of the Stormcloak corpses and brought it back up. Normally she hated drinking from a corpse, but there was never a source of power as from fresh blood. She sank her fangs into the corpse’s neck and drained it of all the blood that she could.

The effects were immediate, her glowing orange eyes burned with renewed energy. The female Dunmer clenched her hand, lightning crackling around her fist as magicka surged within her. Once again they charged at each other, yet this time Galmar was the one who was forced onto the defensive. With her vampiric reflexes fully restored, Charlya was faster than any mortal could ever dream of being. Even as Galmar blocked her blade, Charlya’s other hand snapped out, releasing the magic lightning. The Stormcloak lieutenant barely managed to either dodge or push her hand away and the magically enhanced lightning sizzled passed him. Charlya summoned forth all of her vampiric might, bringing her blade down upon him. Galmar tried to block the strike with the shaft of his greataxe – yet the simple wood was no match for her strength – and it shattered.

Charlya’s Nightingale Blade cut deep, slicing through armor and flesh, sending Galmar falling to the ground. The Dunmer vampire stood over her wounded opponent, snarling down upon the Nord. The ground shook as Odahviing landed behind her; the mighty red dragon towered over her, fire spewing from his maw as he growled. It would be so easy to kill Galmar and deal an even greater blow to Ulfric Stormcloak’s rebellion … but that’s not what Charlya wanted. Charlya wasn’t merely looking for a simple massacre; she was looking to send Ulfric a message. While this battle, in and of itself, was a message showcasing her power as Dovahkiin, there was one thing she could do to reinforce that message. She would send Galmar, Ulfric’s top lieutenant and his strongest warrior, back to him beaten and wounded.

“Return to Ulfric,” Charlya snarled, “go back to Ulfric and tell him of this failure. Tell him that Charlya the Dovahkiin defended the city of Whiterun from his assault.” The Dunmer vampire grabbed Galmar by his ruined armor and threw him across the battlefield. “Tell him that I’m coming for him,” Charlya screamed, her Thu’um carried her voice for all to hear. “Tell him that his days are numbered!” Odahviing roared, adding his Thu’um to hers even as the great dragon breathed fire into the night sky. Galmar dragged himself to his feet, limping off into the surrounding forest and disappeared from sight.

For several heartbeats, the only sound was Odahving’s roar - then the werewolves howled their victory. As if a dam had burst, the other defending troops added their voices to the victory cheer and it seemed as if all of Nirn shook with the force of it. Charlya turned on her heel and strode back towards Whiterun, sheathing her Nightingale Blade as she did so. She should be rejoicing with the others in victory, yet she couldn’t find it in herself to celebrate. There was only one thing on her mind, one person she had to make sure was alive and the unfinished business they had.

She found Jenassa on the battlements and their eyes locked on one another. She ignored both Jarl Balgruuf and Irileth as she all but sprinted past them and wrapped her arms around Jenassa in a fierce embrace. Charlya drew back only enough to draw the other Dunmer woman into a kiss, uncaring of anyone around them. In that moment, she didn’t care about the Stormcloaks or the stupid rebellion, she didn’t care about the remaining dragons, and she certainly didn’t care about any other mundane problem that she’d be begged to help with. All she cared about was Jenassa, and showing her the extent of her feelings.

Jarl Balgruuf coughs and the two Dunmer women reluctantly separate. Charlya barely refrained from glaring at the human … yet Balgruuf was one of the few people she actually liked. “There will be plenty of time for proper celebration later. For now, we should return to Dragonsreach. Ulfric has made his move, and now it’s time to discuss our response.”

Charlya frowned slightly as she followed the other mortals back to the Keep. It had been bad enough that she had been forced into fighting Alduin and saving the world … now she was going to be drawn into a pointless civil war that she had no interest in. Not that it really was a surprise, it had only been a matter of time before either side approached her to try and get her to join them. Somehow, Charlya should not be surprised that they were all looking to her to solve their problems … she was, after all, Dovahkiin. Charlya repressed a sigh, it always had to be  _ her _ … didn’t it.


End file.
